Clarence
by lollypopGuild-UK
Summary: Set during the s1 ep "Brothers and sisters" Ben says something he regrets and ends up going on an adventure across time, space and reality. You'll have to read it to find out!


Today I wished that I was dead.

Or, to be more accurate, I wished I'd never been born. It wasn't the first time and it probably won't be the last. Don't get me wrong, I'm not depressed, no, I dealt with that a long time ago. It's just that sometimes I think that everyone in my life would be better off if I wasn't around. It happens to everyone every now-and-then, but I'm pretty sure no-one knows _I_ ever feel this way. People think I'm pretty sorted, but I guess that's my own fault; no-one gets to see the real me. I do things that seem like a good idea at the time, but end up pissing people off. I speak before thinking and that usually gets me in some kind of trouble. Trouble that doesn't seem worth it in the end. You know how it is; you have a dream and you do whatever it takes to achieve that dream, you just don't count on that other people might have different ideas about life. And that is how I got to be in the place that I ended up. Everything got turned around and I'm not even sure how it happened. I started out wishing that I had never been born, and finished up being thankful for a lot.

I'm not explaining this very well. Maybe I should start from the beginning.

You're probably wondering what Clarence has to do with all this. Well the answer is, everything. Today was one of those changes-everything days. Today I finally let go.

I was standing by the moon pool, watching her walk away from me again. Because of something stupid I'd said... Again. All our problems were spinning round my head like a whirlwind of eostrogen fueled hate, leaving me bewildered and deflated and feeling like I'd been assaulted in some way. But probably not half as bad as she felt.

"You are the most hateful man on the face of this earth."

There. She said it. We all knew that's what she'd been _thinking_ since we both signed the papers, but she'd refrained for the sake of maturity. Things had been tense on board, but we'd come to some kind of mutual acceptance of the situation. Shame, what I'd just done was the straw that broke the camel's back. Maybe if I'd thought it through a little more before opening my big mouth, we wouldn't be in this mess. But I probably deserved it. Great idea - watch the woman that you've always loved, and will always love, acting cute with this poor abandoned child - something she'd always done in my dreams. Bad idea - make some dumb comment about her biological clock.

_You are the most hateful man on the face of this earth._

Yeah, I get it. You don't have to spell it out. I don't even have to try. I just open my mouth and bad stuff happens.

Some time later, Bridger caught my attention in the corridor. He wanted to know what the hell I had done to his chief engineer, because whatever she was going through, she wasn't hiding it very well and it was starting to affect the crew. He already had a watchful eye on me after the events a few weeks ago, and was becomming increasingly frustrated with the influence I was having over his Lieutenant Commander. What really got to me though, was the fact that he automatically assumed that since she was tetchy, it must be my fault.

I admired the man, who didn't? But ever since the day we met, when I put my foot in it by saying something about his son, I just couldn't seem to get on the right side of him.

So then I was sulking in my quarters, trying to get on with some paperwork, something to do with the child protection agency. Those poor kids were really starting to affect the crew, myself included. Sensing their dispair brought up a lot of demons from the past.

I was not really concentrating and wondering how it all went so wrong, when there was a knock on the hatch. It was just one thing after another today.

Lucas. The poor kid tries hard. Tries _really_ hard. But I didn't have the patience for it right then. He probably needed advice - girls, and all that sort of thing. One in particular. I could even predict how it would have started - '_I never had the father-son conversation'._ To be honest, I had more pressing issues weighing on my mind. Like the mess I've made of my life. Jesus, doesn't he realise he's not the only person who's parents didn't have time for them? Those kids are not the only kids to have ever felt alone.

I snapped.

Lucas looked hurt, and I hated myself even more than I did before. As he closed the hatch behind him, my heart sank and I realised I'd never been this low. People are unhappy and it's all my fault. I've upset the two people who mean the most to me.

In desperation, I fell into my bunk, hoping for a couple of minutes rest for my eyes, and not really anticipating the fitful sleep that came over me like a tidal wave.

Dreams, awful dreams about losing people_, _until I woke with a start, and there was someone standing there.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my mind and body still half paralysed by the serotonin.

"I'm Clarence." The dumpy, middle aged guy answered. He was wearing a white robe, and had a face like a crumpled apple pie. All I could think of was that it was really surreal and he must be a mental patient. That was, until some of my waking intelligence returned and I remembered I'm on a submarine, and therefore he can't be an escaped mental patient.

"What?" I asked, rubbing sleep from my eyes and wondering where my PAL was so that I could call security.

"I'm Clarence."

Yeah, like that explained everything.

"You've got exactly ten seconds to explain to me why you're in my... Office. I know every single crew member on this boat personally, and you're not one of them."

Clarence sighed like I was the stupidest person he'd ever met.

"You wished you'd never been born, didn't you?"

"Right." I said. It was true, I had. But that didn't mean I sounded any less like I was asking a question, rather than confirming his assumption. "And that concerns you... How?"

"You're my new assignment."

"Oh, boy." It was sounding more and more out-to-lunch by the second.

Clarence responded to my quizical expression. "The man upstairs," he said tiresomely, "is on your case."

Interesting.

"I beg your pardon?" I said, getting up and tidying myself up the after effects of my un-anticipated nap.

"You're really not blessed with a whole lot of brain cells, are you? Haven't you ever heard of guardian angels?" Then he started to speak slowly, patronisingly, "it's... my... job... to... show... you... how... things... would... be... if... you... _were..._ never... born."

"Hold on, hold on," I said, "Just a second. Backtrack a little. Did you say 'guardian angel'?"

"Typical." He said, pouting. "You're all the same. Don't believe what's right in front of your eyes. Well, how would you feel if you'd spent all your career watching someone, and you showed up to help them, and they didn't even accept that you were real?"

"Jeez... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I seem to be doing that a lot lately." I said, sarcastically.

"Wanna tell me about it?"

"I don't know," I said, with all the embarrassment of a teenager. Then the absurdity came back to me, "no, I do not want to tell you about it! What am I saying? You cannot be serious."

"This is real Benjamin. More real than you'll ever know."

"You know my name?"

"I know everything about you. Like I said, I'm your guardian angel."

"Prove it. Tell me something only I would know."

"You're afraid of roller-coasters." He said.

"That's only logical, because I have motion sickness."

"Your first kiss was with a girl called Veronica, and everyone used to call her Ronnie, and your friends ran around shouting _'Ben kissed Ronnie!' _because they thought it was funny."

"Anyone who knew me could tell you that."

"When you were eight years old you had an imaginary friend you called 'Invisible Ben'. He looked exactly like you except that he was invisible and you blamed him for everything you did that was bad."

"Okay, I have to admit that is spookily accurate."

"When you were _nine_ years old your Mom told you you could only have one cookie out of the jar, because she didn't have much money, but when she wasn't looking, you tried to take all the cookies out of sheer spite and you broke the jar, and then you lied about it. You've felt guilty ever since. Especially since..."

"Alright, alright, that's enough," I snapped, not wanting to ressurrect the memories, "you've made your point."

Clarence then proceeded to make himself at home, sitting on my favourite chair and tipping it on the two back legs, the tails of his robe swinging, and grating on my nerves. Had it been under different circumstances, he was the kind of guy I would have liked and possibly made friends with. But here he was, invading my privacy, interrupting my self pity, and generally challenging my perception of reality. He acted like he was at home, like he fitted right in. This was something that I found particularly offensive.

I scratched my head. "So you're really an angel?"

"Yes." Said Clarence, starting to sound like he thought he was getting through to me.

"And you've been watching me all my life?"

"Not all your life, just the best bits. I do have other things to do, you know."

"How old are you?"

"What kind of a question is that? You don't ask a gentleman his age..."

"How _old_ are you?" I persisted.

"Ten thousand years old." He said.

"Hmpf."

"You believe me now?" Another half question, half statement.

"Why are you here?"

"I told you," he seemed a little mad at me, "You wished you were dead, and it's my job to try and teach you a lesson, yada-yada-yada and all that... I forget the rest of the speech."

"Give me strength." I said, rubbing my face.

Clarence interrupted, "he's already done that."

"What the...? Never mind. How exactly do you intend to _'teach me a lesson'_? 'Cause I've been _'taught a lesson' _before, and it hurt - "

"We're going on a little journey through time and space."

"Oh yeah, I've seen this movie."

"It's not a movie. It's real."

At that point I reasoned with myself. If this was a dream then I had nothing to lose, and if it was real then I had a whole lot to lose. I'd never know what would have happened. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Let's get it over and done with."

"Then it begins." He flashed me a cheeky grin. It made me a little afraid of what I'd gotten myself into. Maybe I hadn't put up enough of a fight, but it was happening so quickly, I didn't have enough time to think it through properly. To be brutally honest, I thought I was still dreaming, but there was something about Clarence's untidyness and bad manners that told me this _had_ to be real. Why would I imagine that my guardian angel was rude and self-impressed?

"Don't worry. I've done this many times before. It won't hurt... Much." Clarence said, getting up and coming over to grasp my hand in his. I flinched a little at the unfamiliar touch of another man's skin. Suddenly I felt an odd pulling sensation, a kind of tugging at my body and my soul...

"What's happening? What are you doing?" I said, panicked.

"Don't worry. I told you; I'm going to show you an alternative reality."

OOOOO

Between one heartbeat and the next, I materialised in middle of a busy street. It was the last thing I had been expecting. My first instinct at the sight of the oncoming traffic was to pray, but then I realised that I was already with an angel, so what good would that do?

There was no way I could make it to the sidewalk safely. A taxi-cab passed through my body, leaving me breathless with fear and unsure what to do, until I felt a hand on my shoulder.

_"Are you insane?"_ I shouted above the din of the cars and commuting crowds. My fear turned to anger.

Clarence just shrugged it off. "Relax, you're perfectly safe."

"It's Okay for you, you've done this before... Wahhhhhh..." I spun around as another yellow cab clipped my elbow. "Is this what you call safe?"

I made my way through the traffic to the sidewalk, in sheer desperation. Bracing myself everytime something passed through me. Note to self - keep your eyes closed when you collide with another human being. I never want to see that again.

The first thing I noticed when I got to 'safety' was that I was in familiar territory. New York City. Brooklyn's financial district to be exact. I was doubled over, gripping the concrete like man too long and far from home, trying to get over the panic and was just about to ask Clarence what had possessed him to bring me here, when I noticed that my clothes had changed. I was no longer wearing my uniform, but my red Florida State T-shirt, jeans and sneakers. "What the fu- "

Clarence interrupted me, "you're wearing that, because that is how you always imagine yourself."

"So you take me off the boat, dump me in the middle of a busy intersection and then you take my clothes?"

"That's pretty much it." Said Clarence, nonchalantly.

"This is exactly like getting hijacked in the Dominican republic. How am I going to get my uniform back?"

"It doesn't work like that. This universe doesn't know you, it doesn't know you were ever on seaQuest, so you don't _have_ a uniform. It's not that difficult to understand, really."

"My head hurts."

I turned around and around, looking at the looming buildings, the ones that had always given me vertigo, and started to wish I had never agreed to this.

"Oh, that'd be the adjustment period. Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

The crowds milled past, going about their daily lives and completely unseeing. I was already pretty convinced we were invisible from the incident with the traffic, but it would hardly have surprised me if people saw a barefooted old man in a white robe with sticky-up hair and just ignored it. This _was_ New York. I swiped my hand at one of the parked cars. "I can't touch anything."

"You'll get used to that too."

"How long is this gonna take?"

"That depends entirely on you."

I almost didn't hear the last part because someone was talking rather loudly beside us.

Someone had parked illegally and was deep in dicussion about it with a traffic cop. That someone was a she.

We watched, intrigued, as the girl gave the cop a piece of her mind. Girl was a bit of an exaggeration, as she was probably in her thirties. She had shiny black hair and dark grey eyes that made you want to stare at her. Maybe she was why we were here.

"Whoa, she's very... Outspoken." I commented to my companion.

"That's because she's _you."_

I shook the grogginess from my head some more. "Did you just say, she's me?"

"Well not _you_. She would be your sister. Just because you were never born, doesn't mean your parents didn't want a child."

"Older or younger." I asked.

"Younger."

I couldn't help staring at her. If I'd ever had a sister, in my own reality that is, I would have loved to protect her. This made me want to stick up for the woman in front of me.

Clarence must have noticed my hesitation because he said, "Wanna go over there?"

"Will she... Will she, uh, know we're there?"

"You don't exist. No-one can ever see or hear you." Then with a mischievious glint in his eye, he added, "opens up wonderful opportunities doesn't it?"

We went over. She was still bopping her head at the cop, who by the way, had obviously heard it all before. I flinched at the stream of expletives that flowed from her mouth. Like many women, she was beautiful when she was angry.

"What does she do?"

"She teaches first grade."

"With _that_ vocabulary? What's her name?"

"Sabrina Giordano."

"That's my mom's last name." I felt my eyebrows rise up all by them selves.

"Well, Krieg does sound like something you hacked up from the back of your throat."

"You were listening to that?"

"Only the best bits, Benjamin... Only the best bits."

It was really strange being an invisible fly on the wall of someone elses life. Someone who never existed where I came from. I waved my hand in front of her face. It was true. No one could see me.

"That's enough for now," said Clarence, pulling me away, "we'll come back to her later."

I was disappointed; so far this adventure wasn't so bad, and I wanted to see more of my _'sister'. _Still, it had proved that Clarence knew what he was doing. I let him take the lead.

OOOOO

The fuzzy grey muddle of space and stars cleared to reveal another wholely unexpected scene. I was standing in the pool area of the navy's dolphin training centre in San Diego. How did I know this? I'd been there before. Let's leave it at that.

I stared about me in wonderment at how I'd been translocated from the city, into another time and place. Clarence materialised beside me.

"What are we doing _here_?"

"You'll see." He said, smugly. The guy was really starting to get on my nerves. Angel or no angel.

As my eyes adjusted the darkened chamber, they settled on the image of a lone figure by the side of the pool, working with one of the dolphins.

"Lucas!" I called out excitedly, pleased to see a familiar face. "Lucas, I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"He can't hear you." Clarence stopped me rushing towards him. "No one can see or hear you. We're in an alternative universe. One where you never existed."

"Can I touch things here?" I asked, reaching out to the wall.

"No. How many times do I have to say it? You don't exist. You can't interact with the world around you."

"So what's the point, if I can't talk to anyone?"

"Just wait... Watch..."

And as he pointed, sure enough, the play began to be acted out in front of us. Someone came into the room and began to speak with Lucas. We got a little closer, so that we could hear what was being said.

I amused myself by waving my hand in front of their eyes, unseen.

"How's it going with the vocabulary?" The guy asked. I recognised him. His name was Gerry and he was one of the dolphin psychologists.

"Okay, I guess." Said Lucas. It was when he spoke that I understood that this was not the same boy I knew. This young man was bored, hopeless, with none of the enthusiasm for life I'd come to appreciate. Every word, every gesticulation seemed arbitrary. "We're not making much progress with the pronouns. At least, not as much as I'd expected."

"I wouldn't worry about it too much. Abstract concepts are always a challenge. Aren't they, Leonardo?" Gerry rubbed the dolphin's melon affectionately. Then he turned his attention to the human. So young... Still a child really. "How are things with you? I hear you've not been getting enough sleep."

"I'm fine."

"You know, Lucas, I may be a veterinarian, but I've also studied human psychology. If you ever need someone to talk to... "

"I said I'm _fine_." Lucas snapped, defensively, and rose, gathering his computer equipment and his flash-cards.

As he walked out, Gerry called to his back, the sound echo-ing off the surface of the water, "just thought I'd ask, no need to bite my head off."

I realised that Lucas didn't open up to just anybody. He confided in me and I'd taken it for granted. I felt something break in my heart. But little did I know, it was about to get a severe beating. Whatever was left of it, unbroken, was going to get confronted in ways that are inconcievable to those who have never looked into the mirror and seen what they are really made of. But I'm getting to that part. I've never claimed to be a good man, but maybe, because of this adventure, I've become a better man than I was.

The tugging feeling began again. Clarence and I were abruptly swept into the cloud of stars again, to be whisked off to another time and space. It was like being dragged backwards through a black hole, and not totally unpleasant.

Now we were in what I could only guess was where-ever Lucas was living. The young man pottered around the apartment, searching for things among the hullaballoo of his disorganised belongings and bringing them back to the hub of his activities; a sprawling desk. Some things never change and his cleanliness was one of them, yet somehow the dwelling seemed impersonal and un-Lucas. It was like this was only a dim shadow of the person I knew. A pale lifeless copy of how things should have been.

"Where is this? _When_ is this?"

"Later the same day." Clarence said, nonchalantly. "This is what Lucas ended up doing after he managed to get off the boat. He's still developing his ideas on inter-species communication."

"What about seaQuest... Bridger... Darwin?"

"Lucas never met Nathan Bridger or Darwin. He felt so lonely and rejected that he didn't stay on the boat for long."

I stayed quiet for another minute, thinking this through. I was stunned that there could possibly be any alternative to the reality I already knew. It just didn't feel right.

It was almost as if Lucas could sense the pathos when he reached under a pile of comic-books to pull out a letter opener.

Why would someone who gets all their mail electronically, have a letter opener? I wondered.

He sat there for a good long time, doing nothing, just staring at the blade. The realisation hit me like a sharp electric shock. I squeezed my eyes shut, clinging on to Clarence, begging him, "I can't watch this... Please, don't let me see what he's about to do."

OOOOO

The tugging/pushing/pulling took over again, and I changed my mind, "wait, I'm not ready yet, what happens to him?" I was in the dark, and Clarence was no-where to be seen or heard.

Okay, so I was going to have to figure this one out on my own. I'd done this translocation thing three times now, and I was starting to get used to it, keeping in mind that the normal laws of physics no longer applied.

I reached my hand out and immediately lurched through a wooden door into the dimly lit hallway of a very clean, ergonomically arranged timber-frame house. I looked behind me and realised I'd appeared in the linen closet. Very funny, Clarence. At the other end of the hall was a window and on the other side of the window, it was snowing. The stormy weather outside lent the house an eerie cool glow.

The angel was still no-where to be found, so I decided to explore on my own, still a little apprehensive of who's house it might have been.

I followed the sound of children's laughter down the spiral staircase. I liked the house; it smelled of pinewood.

The laughter was coming from the lounge. I went in, not feeling a bit guilty for intruding in someone else's house. It was _my_ dream. I could do what I wanted.

There was a young woman helping the two kids choose decorations for the tree. She had her head bowed, rummaging in a box of tinsel and glass baubles.

"How about this one?" She said, putting a lot of enthusiasm into it for the children's sake, and holding the gold bell up to the light.

I didn't need to see her face. It was Katie. My breath caught in my throat. She had on a long sweater that covered her hands. She always did love to dress down, but she still looked amazing.

"Yeah!" Said the little girl, hands on hips, "put it right at the top."

"Okay, bossy-boots. Whatever you say." Katie stretched up and put the bell right at the top of the tree, near the star.

"You know, every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings." Said the little girl. She reminded me of Hope. She was adorable, but I was ready to vomit..

"Is that so?" Said Katie with a half smile.

"That is _so_ not true." Said the boy.

"Don't you believe in angels?" Katie asked him as the 'Hope' girl sulked.

"I don't believe in angels and I don't believe in fairies." The boy was a little cross. He'd plainly reached the age where Christmas and angels were uncool.

"Don't say _that._ Everytime someone says they don't believe in fairies, one drops dead." The Hope whined.

Shame that doesn't happen to angels too, I thought.

"I _don't_ believe in fairies, I _don't_ believe in fairies..."

"Michael, that's_ enough!" _Katie told him off. "You're upsetting your sister, now say you're sorry."

"I'm sorry." Michael pouted.

"How about we all go into the kitchen and make some hot chocolate, hey? I think the tree is full enough."

As they left the room, all holding hands, I lingered just a little longer, taking in the scene. There was a photo on the fireplace. Katie and a man who I assumed was her husband. He was not unattractive, but he was older; _much_ older.

My hand went to my chest. It physically hurt to think that someone else had made her happy when I couldn't.

"It's true you know."

I swung round to face the comically overwieght cherub.

"What is?" I asked. I could hear my own voice was laced with resentment at what I'd just witnessed.

"Every time a bell rings, an angel _does_ get his wings."

"So where's your wings?"

"I'm not qualified yet." Clarence stated, indignantly.

"Oh, that's just great. Everyone else gets a proper angel and I get a learner driver."

"I'm starting to regret taking this assignment." Clarence dragged me into the kitchen.

Katie was mixing the hot chocolate and the kids were fighting over the marshmallows, sitting on their stools at the counter. She set the two mugs before their eager faces and glowed as they downed the lot, wiping their mouths with the backs of their hands.

"That's what I like to see; healthy appetites." Katie rested her chin on her hands, elbows on the countertop.

I had to admit; it suited her. I was right about this motherhood thing all along. I could feel my heart breaking a little more.

The doorbell rang and the little girl hopped down off her stool and bolted for the front door. Her brother was not far behind.

She was only just able to reach the catch, but she got it open eventually, and flung the door open triumphantly.

A blonde woman stood there, wrapped up to the top of her head in scarves and a parka.

"MOMMY!" The Hope squealed and she and Michael leaped into her arms.

"Hello darlings." Said the blonde, hugging them back. "Okay, get your coats and don't for get to say thank-you."

"Thank-you auntie Kate." They both chimed, and grabbed their things and bolted for the waiting car.

Katie hung on the door, rubbing her arms from the blast of cold. There was a subtle change in her face, a kind of disappointment, but her friend didn't notice it, she just gave her a snowy hug and said, "thanks, I owe you one."

"No, thank-you for lending them to me for the day. We had a lot of fun."

"I'll call you thursday." Said Blondie, rearranging her scarves.

"No problem." Katie gave her a little wave and closed the door. She leaned her back on the reverse of it and exhaled. All the warmth and laughter had vacated the house in an instant and left her on her own.

I didn't know whether to be relieved or gutted on her behalf. It made sense now. This wasn't a house where children lived, or rather ran riot, like they tend to do. It was too perfect, too minimalistic. The kitchen was barely used, the sofa and the rugs were too white.

The alternative Katie set about tidying up the lounge with a heaviness about her. I followed, trying to get a good look at her face, but she kept moving too quickly. She knealed down and gathered up the ruined tissue paper from the box of decorations. When she saw the tree, she stopped moving, stared into space. I wanted to talk to her, put my arms around her and comfort her.

"Im so sorry." I said, without thinking.

Clarence watched all of this in silence but with a face filled with compassion.

For a moment, I could have sworn she heard me, but eventually she stood and brushed the feeling off with a shake of the head. She checked the clock, and took the litter and some broken baubles into the kitchen where she deposited them in the trash. She was just about to start washing up when the front door slammed again.

This time it wasn't a cheery, saying-goodbye-to-the-children kind of slam, it was an angry one.

I involuntarily jumped back out of the way, as her husband marched into the room and dumped his coat and briefcase on the counter.

"I saw Rachel driving away as I pulled up. I thought I told you I don't want that woman coming round here anymore."

Katie ignored what he said, taking the coat and hanging it up. "Hi sweetie. How was your day?"

He caught her arm as she passed him, digging his fingers in and bringing her back to him, roughly. "I thought I told you I didn't want her bringing those kids round here anymore." He repeated.

"Gareth, you're hurting me..." She yanked her arm away, intimidated. The atmosphere in the room changed.

Immediately I was reminded of her mom's warm kitchen. This one was the complete opposite; not the home that we'd always dreamed of. It was becoming quite clear that Gareth hadn't given her the life that she deserved, that she'd always worked hard for. As the poet said, _tread softly because you tread on my dreams._

"Are you listening to me?" He glared at her.

"Can you just give me a chance to say 'hello', before you start having a go? What am I supposed to say?"

"'_I'll never do it again' _would be appropriate."

"How can you expect me never to see my friends?"

"Quite easily. I don't waste time with friends because I'm working hard, trying to build a legacy for you. The least you could do is show some kind of appreciation, keep the place tidy. You _know_ I can't be around dirt."

"Shouldn't be in the building trade if you don't want to get your hands dirty," she muttered.

"_WHAT_ did you say?" Gareth's eyes glazed over with hatred.

I stared, completely confused. Why wasn't she standing up to him? This wasn't the woman I knew.

_Give him a slap_, I willed her.

"Sorry, I don't know what came over me."

"It's that woman. She's putting ideas into your head." Gareth continued, removing his tie. "It's always 'children this, children that'."

"She needed my help, she had to go..."

"I...don't... _CARE._" He shouted over her. "You take a day off work I expect you to get something done." He turned to the sink, where the two mugs had been left, still dripping with congealed chocolate. "Whatthe hell is this? This place is filthy."

He stormed into the lounge, Katie on his heels, Clarence and I followed, giving each other nervous glances. It would have been funny, all four of us following in a row, if it wasn't so serious. The storm inside this house was a lot worse than the one outside.

"Pine-needles? Katherine what the hell were you thinking? Don't you ever give a thought to how hard had I work to give you all this? You were no-one, and I made you who you are today. I work my fingers to the bone for you, always have. And how do you repay me? Sitting on your fat ass, having fun all day and making a mess."

Clarence and I looked at each other again. Katie was hardly fat and the house was barely furnished, let alone messy. Gareth looked like he was going to tear his salt-and-pepper hair out. He was being very unreasonable.

"Get a grip, it's not a big deal." Katie pleaded.

"Not a big deal? Look at the state of you." He yanked her hair out of it's pony-tail holder.

Katie tried to control her reaction. She obviously believed everything he was saying.

This was worse than I ever could have imagined. I felt my fist balling up to clock him one, when Clarence laid a hand on my arm, with a subtle shake of the head, reminding me it would do no good.

Gareth marched back into the kitchen, Katie hot on his heels.

She changed her tactics, putting herself in between him and the dishes, putting her hands on his chest and trying to pacify him, by undoing his shirt buttons.

"Honey," she purred, "you've had a hard day, let me do something for you, help you unwind - "

"Get away from me, you disgust me. You're filthy - everythings filthy."

"I'll clean it up..." She said, hurt that her efforts had been rejected.

Gareth grabbed the two mugs out of the sink and cooly and calmly let them fall out of his hands and onto the floor. "Clean _that_ up." He said sarcastically, then he grabbed her roughly by her hair and pushed her to the floor, where she went sprawling inelegantly among the broken pieces.

Honest to God, I'd never seen her frightened before that moment. Not even on training missions under live gunfire. Not even when staring down the enemy at twenty thousand feet. What I saw in her eyes scarred me deeply. Whoever this guy Gareth was, he was a total bastard for making her like that.

I'd had enough. I lunged for Gareth, shouting, "leave her alone!"

Then blackness...

OOOOO

Stars began to appear all around me again. It was still, very quiet, and unlike the previous times we did not get transferred to another time and space, we just hung there in the fog, in a kind of in-between place. Clarence's silhouette was just visible in the starlight. I grabbed him by his white fluffy collar. "Take me back! He's going to hurt her -"

"There's nothing you can do. You wished this."

"I never wished this to happen. Why didn't she fight back? What _happened_ to her... To make her like that?" The questions were spinning in my head, still not believing what I'd seen. Katie was one of the most confident and passionate people I'd ever known. No-one could subdue her.

"He broke her. Anyone can be broken if you torture them enough." Clarence said simply. "She just gave up."

Guilt stabbed my heart. I'd done the same thing, but in a different way. Breaking her down. I wasn't like Gareth, was I? "He treats her like she owes him something..." I said.

"That's because he took her off the streets. She was a drop out, Ben." Clarence looked at me accusingly.

"She quit the academy?"

"There was no-one to give her the support and friendship that she needed, because she never met _you_."

"But she didn't need _me_... She didn't need _anyone_ - "

"You thought she could do it all by herself? Boy, you are really stupid aren't you?"

I was starting to feel very angry towards Clarence, he was insinuating...

"So this is all my fault?"

"Everyone needs friends, Ben, but she didn't have any."

"It never even crossed my mind that she might be anything less than self-sufficient. She had us all fooled didn't she?"

"With no-one to lean on she couldn't take the pressure and she quit. She couldn't tell her parents so she never went back home. She ended up drifting until Gareth recognised her potential and gave her a job. He started off being a good man, he really did, and they loved each other. But then he went through a mid-life crisis. He takes it all out on her. He kills her, Ben. Not today, but soon. He doesn't mean to; it's an accident, but it's his fault all the same."

We floated in the starry space as I let the information sink in. I felt sick. If Clarence was right, and this was an alternative universe, then that woman wasn't _my_ Katie. But no-one deserved to be treated like that.

"We have to go back." I said, calmer this time. "We have to help her."

"She's not real, Ben. She's as unreal to your universe as you are to hers."

"I can't just sit back and let someone suffer now that I know about it."

"There's nothing you can do..."

"You keep telling me that. But if I can see and hear and smell whats going on in that world, if you can swing back on my favourite chair, surely there's a way to affect it. Back there, I was convinced she heard me."

"No-way. It's against the rules."

"You know, for an angel, you sure are mean. We can't just leave her there to die!"

Clarence huffed. "Well, there _is_ one way. I could have a word with the boss."

My grin was all the persuasion he needed. Clarence promptly disappeared leaving me all alone in the cloud of stars. I wondered again if this was really just a dream. It seemed awfully real. Maybe it was something I'd eaten... Maybe there was something in the water.

When he returned, it was with a solemn expression. He clasped his hands behind his back. "He's agreed to let you be material for one hour - "

"Yeeeessssss!"

" - but I still don't think this is a good idea."

"Thank-you!" I directed my appreciation upwards, backwards, wherever God or heaven was supposed to be.

Clarence screwed his face up like he was thinking, _what is with you human beings? You're absolutely clueless._

OOOOO

This time I was ready.

We appeared in front of an office complex in Cloverdale, Seattle. Oh, so this is where she lives, I thought. The fresh snow was still on the ground and it crunched beneath my feet. I put my hand out to try and touch the mailbox, see if I was really real, and ended up hugging it. "Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you..."

"Alright, alright, that's enough. Get up before anyone sees you." Clarence's impatience with my human sensibility was increasing. "You only have an hour, remember."

I recovered my composure and looked up at the entrance, checking for suspicious passers-by. _Gareth Wheeler Enterprises_, it said and smaller, _Property Development Experts_. He'd obviously built up a very successful business.

We went in. Well, I went in. Clarence was still invisible, so he didn't count. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him shaking his head in desperation at my futile efforts to change someone's destiny.

"Can I help you?" Said the receptionist. She looked me up and down, and it was only then that I noticed I was still wearing my casual clothes. Hardly the attire to go visiting people in. I turned on the charm. That's the advantage of having what people called an irresistible smile; you could seduce anything with two X chromosomes on the entire planet. I'd like to take all the credit, but it's a product of my mediterranean genes and military dentistry.

"Katherine Hitchcock's office." I said.

The receptionist looked at me blankly. I slapped myself on the forehead. "I mean Katherine Wheeler."

Clarence shot me a _'duh' _look. _I did a don't-look-at-me-like-that _right back. We were building quite a rapport.

"That's human resources. Are you here for the interview?"

I nodded, winging it.

"Wait right over there."

People pass by, going about their work with efficiency, absolutely oblivious the fact that their boss is an obsessive, abusive, ass-hole murderer. I sat down with three other young men. Okay, using the word young in reference to myself is a bit of a stretch of the imagination, but you're as young as you feel, I always say.

I glance smugly at Clarence who is forced to stand, I didn't care how old he was; he was not getting my seat.

Then, to my utter horror, he pulled at his robes, obviously trying to dissipate some bodily emission. The other interviewees covered their noses and gaged a little as they tried to politely shift away from me. Apparently, angels can be smelled as well as being able to smell. All I could think is, what did I do to deserve this? And no wonder he hasn't graduated yet; he keeps suffocating his charges. Clarence himself just shrugs and shows no remorse whatsoever.

Eventually, to my relief, a door opens and Katie comes out, looking more beautiful than ever, with her hair pulled back to enhance those razor-sharp cheekbones, and with an air of complete professionalism. I can see that she's quite frail now that she's wearing tailored clothes.

"Mr. Mackendoerfer." She announces.

No-one makes a move.

She waits, wrinkling her nose a little at the elusive scent of angel-fart.

Still no-one makes a move.

I take my chance and jump up, assuming that Mr. Mackendoerfer hasn't bothered to show up for his interview.

She leads me into the office. I glare at Clarence, trying to communicate to him that I don't want company, I want to do this in privacy. But since now that I'm corporeal and he isn't, there's nothing I can do to stop him tagging along. Katie gives me a funny look in response to my frantic facial gesticulations. Suddenly I'm feeling eight years old again and trying to explain my imaginary friend to the therapist.

She offers me a seat. Her office is scarily neat. Everything at right angles. Katie always loved right angles.

"So, Mr. Mackendoerfer," she glanced at the personnel file.

"Please," I interrupt, trying to get a look at the upside-down file myself, "call me... _Roger_?"

"Roger." She softened up. "It looks like you are over-qualified for the position you applied for. I wonder if I can't find you something more appropriate."

I stared at her, falling in love all over again. Gone is the timid creature from - what must have been last night for her - but only a half hour ago for me. She met my gaze, but there wasn't even a flicker of recognition. I was disappointed.

"If I may be so bold, I think _you're_ over qualified for this job. If you were married to me, you'd be the director of operations by now."

"I beg your pardon?" The familiar Katie-fire lit up her eyes, sassy and indignant. Why couldn't she show that to her husband? "What makes you think you have the right to make assumptions about my personal life? Just because I'm - "

"Look, I have a confession to make." I put my hand out, fending off her imminent anger. "I'm not here for a job. I just wanted to meet you."

Without even breaking eye contact, she reached for the intercom, pressed a button and spoke warily, "Vannessa - "

Then I realised how ridiculous I was sounding. I tried to back-track. "I was in your house last night and I saw - "

Damn...

She hastily got up from her chair and backed away towards the wall, feeling for something to lean on. "You've got about ten seconds to explain your self before I call the cops."

I realised I was just digging a hole, and I hadn't thought this through. I moved towards her and she flinched.

"It's Okay, it's me; Ben." She looked blank, so I continued, "you've known me for years, in my universe at least. We were lovers."

If she looked blank before, she looked even more confused now. "You think?" She said, reaching into her desk drawer for some kind of weapon. All she could find was a hole puncher. She pointed it at me threateningly.

"I know you, Katie, I can prove it."

"No-one calls me that." Her voice was shaky, we both looked at the intercom-button, wondering who could reach it first if she made a break for it.

"Your mom calls you that_... I_ call you that."

"Stay away from me."

It hurt that she thought I would hurt her. "I'm not going to hurt you." I said.

"What do you want? If it's money - "

"You're from Cody. You never tell anyone because they ask you if you rope and ride, which you do. In fact, you're pretty good at it. You didn't go to your junior prom because when you wore heels you were taller than all the boys. You think you were a ugly duckling, but you weren't; you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, even though you didn't get the braces off your teeth 'til you were nineteen. You like fixing things. You like breaking things even more..."

So I did exactly what clarence did, to convince _me_. As I spoke, listing the things that made her, her, and the things that made her special to me, her face relaxed and her anger changed to tears. The hole puncher dropped from her grasp. To my surprise, I felt the tears welling up inside myself too.

"Stop it... You're scaring me."

"... You take your tea with honey, never milk. When you're angry you can't eat. You never think before you speak. You hate spectator sports. You love to draw, but no-one knows about that. I know because I borrowed your oceanography textbook once and it was full of Marvel characters. You prefer to be on top. You scream when you - "

"Who are you? How do you know all this?" The tears were flowing freely now.

"I told you. We were lovers."

"Then how come I don't remember you?"

"Because it was in an alternative universe, another life."

She sat on the edge of the sideboard, exhausted by the onslaught of emotions.

"I know a lot about you. I know what your husband does to you when no-one else is around."

She looked shocked.

"How...?"

"How come you don't fight back?"

"I..." She faltered.

"Come on, Katie, the navy taught you better than that."

"How did you know about that?"

"Because I was there."

"Ooooohhhh." She breathed a sigh of relief. Reaching for the intercom once more. "You're one of the brainless jarheads I went through basic with. You must have been really obsessed to find all that stuff out. What have you been doing? Stalking me ever since?" Then she laughed through her tears. "You know, you almost had me there. I'm impressed."

Clarence grimaced.

She opened her mouth to bellow, "Vanne-"

But she never got to say the _' - ssa!' _part, because I leaped into action, slid across her desk and clapped my hand over her mouth, stifling her call for help.

She struggled against my grasp, elbowing me in the face and kicking me in the shin. I let go and doubled over in pain. This being-tangible thing was not all it was cut out to be. She straightened herself and her clothes up, gasping for breath. "What do you mean, I never fight back?" She said triumphantly.

"See, I knew you had it in you..." I said, holding my nose and glad that her shoe heel hadn't collided with a more sensitive part of my anatomy. "Why don't you do that when he's getting rough with you, get back some of your self respect."

"I don't need marriage advice from a stalker, thank-you."

"You have to do _something_, tell someone what you're going through, or it'll just get worse and he'll end up killing you."

Just then the door burst open and The Receptionist, who's name I assumed was Vannessa, came in saying, "what the hell is going on in here?"

Vannessa was joined by two of the other waiting interviewees.

"This man tried to assault me." Said Katie.

"_She_ assaulted _me_." I said cracking my nose cartailege and rubbing my shin.

The three new-comers looked to her, then to me, and made up their minds who was telling the truth. The two young men grabbed me and marched me out of the room.

Typical, I thought, _my_ Katie is trained to kill a man with her bare hands and she wouldn't hesitate to do it either. Ninety-nine percent of men are in a lot more danger from her than she is from them. Just what is the world coming to?

Clarence followed the unfortunate scene, shaking his head, and telling me, "I told you it wouldn't work, but would you listen?"

I looked past him to see Katie in the doorway, being comforted by Vannessa, and called back, "I was just trying to help... You deserve better... I'm sorry..."

Suddenly, the dragging of my feet on the carpet became softer, and the grip of the two knuckleheads passed through my arms. As I headed for the floor, I noticed Clarence tapping his imaginary wrist-watch and I remembered that my hour must be up.

I was falling into darkness once again.

OOOOO

We were sitting on a park bench outside a police station. I use the term 'sitting' cautiously because, according to Clarence, it's impossible.

"Frustrating when someone doesn't believe you know all about them, isn't it?"

"Touché. How come I can sit on a bench if I can't touch anything?" I ask him.

"It's just an illusion. Part of something called your residual self-image."

"Nah-ah. I don't think so. You stole that idea from the _'Matrix'."_

"Did not."

"Did to."

"They stole it from us."

"Yeah, right. Listen, next we need to go visit Lucas, do the same thing, try to help him." I suggest.

"No way, not after _that_ fiasco."

"But the alternative Lucas needs our help just as much as the alternative Katie."

"You're missing the point of this exercise. It's supposed to change your attitude to life, not rescue non-existent-altered-reality-people. You don't get to see Lucas again." Clarence said, looking down.

"Wha - Why? What happens to him?"

"You'll find out later. Now, in the meantime, you wanted to see Sabrina again."

"So?" I said expectantly.

"So here we are." He gestured up at the police department.

"She becomes a cop?"

"No Mr. I-was-at-the-end-of-the-queue-when-the-brains-got-dished-out. She got arrested. Come on."

I followed, bounding up the steps, but I couldn't help blurting out, "I'm getting sick of your continual putting down of my intelligence. I'm not stupid; I have a degree. In economics. Okay, it might be a subject that not even my professors really understand, but it sounds impressive."

Clarence ignored me, so I added, "there's really a brains queue?"

"I give up." He said as he effortlessly passed through doors and walls.

Sabrina was pacing one of the holding cells, waiting to be formally charged. Her only company was a transsexual prostitute.

"What happened? She's innocent, right?" I asked.

"No. She was picked up loitering with intent to solicit."

"_Sabrina,_ not the... Other one."

"Oh. Well, when we left her last, things got nasty and she was searched. They found huge amounts of prescription only medication in the trunk of her car. She's being charged with possession with intent to supply. She's also implicated in the inadvertant death of one of her customers."

"Jeees-us. Why?"

"Because she didn't cope with what happened as well as you did, or would have if you were real. She hooked up with the wrong guy, got in trouble with the law, had a kid too young, quit school."

"I can't help feeling like I'm the one that condemned her to that life."

"It's not _all_ bad. She fought her way up to become a teacher, just like she always wanted. She was happy for a while."

"So what went wrong?"

"The lure of her old life was too strong. She ended up getting suspended because of her adictions. Now she can't earn enough for her to feed her son. She had to find some way to way to pay the bills, there's plenty of sleeping-pill junkies in this town."

"That's... That's horrible." I watched her pace. Oblivious that anyone was watching, or that anyone cared.

"Are you starting to understand now, that the grass ain't greener? She gets fifteen years for manslaughter and the boy becomes a ward of the state. Just like you - "

"I've had enough." I swallowed with difficulty. "I want to go back now."

"No. I'm not done with you yet."

OOOOO

The bars of the cell faded away, to be replaced by the instantly recognisable bars of a cemetery gate.

I shuddered even though I knew I couldn't be harmed by anything in this universe. In fact, by this world's standard, _I_ was the ghost.

"What is this place?"

"Follow me." Clarence beckonned.

I couldn't help noticing that his white robes had been replaced with black ones. Now, instead of looking comical and pathetic, he was rather sinister.

As we got nearer and nearer, the mist cleared, and I could make out hundreds of headstones. No, _thousands_ of headstones.

We walked through row upon row, looking at the names.

"Mack Stumpf... Leonard Sutter... Ami Sakata... Who are these people?"

"They're all the people who's lives you've saved. Either directly, or indirectly as a result of your work."

I gazed out over the mass of graves, amazed. There were literally thousands of people here, some I recognised, some I didn't. "But these people are all dead."

"Of course. You were never born. You weren't there to help them."

We continued to walk. Finally Clarence stopped beside a cluster of newer looking stones.

The first one said Lucas D Wolenczak b.2003 d.2083.

"That's not so bad," I said, "he had a good long life."

"Long, not good." Said Clarence. "Eighty of Lucas' years only contained the same amount of love and happiness as one normal person's year. In fact, he died a recluse."

"No..." I said weakly.

The next stone disturbed me more than anything I'd seen yet.

Jonathan Devin Ford b.1989 d.2019.

"How? Why? Katie would kill me if she knew I was responsible for that man's death."

Clarence looked at me with empathy. "About six months from now, in your real time-line, the seaQuest is infiltrated by eco-terrorists. Commander Ford tries to stop them by flooding the boat, but he drowns in the process."

"But if I go back, I can stop it, right?"

"Only if you put your self in his place."

"Why would I risk my life for a man that hates me?"

"Only the man upstairs knows that." The angel quoted, _"'...greater love has no man than this; that he lay down his life for his friends.'"_

"This is so unfair." I said, the tears beginning to well up again.

"Tell me this. Now that you know someone needs your help, can you ignore it? If you didn't know this was going to happen, would you still substitute your life for his?"

"If I do, will I live or will I die?"

"I can't tell you that."

Images of Ford's smug face drifted uninvited before my eyes, haunting me. I pretended I didn't know why he hated my so much, but in the end, I couldn't deny it; it was because of what I did to Katie. I let her down when she needed me the most, and now I'd given up on our friendship for the sake of a single, impetuous wish. I wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.

"I can accept that this is how the thing works. But if I go back to how things were, and stop wishing I was dead, it has to be under one condition."

"I suppose I could pull a few strings."

"I want to be still married to Katie."

"Uh, are you sure you want to do that?"

"Surer than I've ever been."

"It could have quite serious consequences that I'm not prepared to take responsibility for."

"But if I pass this test, you get your wings, don't you?"

"Nice try, but an angel cannot be manipulated."

"Ding-a-ling." I taunted. I could be very persuasive when I wanted.

"Argh!" He growled.

"Just do it, Clarence."

"Okay, it's your funeral."

"It was nice meeting you, Clarence, but I'm ready now."

And with that I closed my eyes leaving the cemetery behind.

OOOOO

When I opened them, I was greeted by the joyously familiar sight of my quarters. Everything was where I'd left it. The precious photograph of my parents was still beside me, the postcards were still the same, as were all the other things I'd collected on my travels. I breathed a delicious sigh of relief. The ordeal was over, I'd learned my lesson, and I'd even been granted a second chance.

I relaxed back against the covers, looked over to where I usually hung my uniform. Something was different. Instead of a black jumpsuit, there was my old US navy khakis. Strange. Oh well, I thought, probably just one of those consequences Clarence talked about. At least it proved it had been real and not just a dream. It was like a glitch in the matrix; it happened when they changed something.

I got up, checked the time - half an hour before I was on duty - grabbed some things like I usually did and started out for the communal head. Just like I usually did at this time of day.

I walked down the corridor, just like I usually did. I acknowledged Matthew Phillips, promising to meet him for breakfast, just like I usually did.

Then I stopped in my tracks. My heart began to hammer, faster and faster at the sight that was before me. Coming towards me down the corridor was...

Marilyn Stark.

This was certainly not what usually happened. I couldn't think... I couldn't breathe.

She spoke. "What's the matter with you Lieutenant? Don't just stand there gaping like a fish."

My jaw worked, but no sound came out. I was horrified.

Too much time passed and she gave up with a dismissive wave of the hand, continuing on her way. She had little patience for time-wasters.

Ford, however, who had been right behind her, stayed behind and peered into my face with the utmost concern.

"Ben," he said, "are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"She's... she's... she's..."

"She's what?"

"She's crazy and she tried to kill us all."

Ford's face screwed up in incredulity. "If this is another one of your pranks, it's not funny."

"It's not a joke. She's crazy."

"Are you sleep-walking again?"

"I'm one hundred percent awake, and I'm telling you, you have to have her arrested right away."

Ford's expression changed. He grabbed me by the t-shirt and pulled me to one side. "Look, Ben, I'm trying to cut you some slack because you're my friend, but this has to stop right now. Talking like that... It's... It's mutiny. You oughta be glad she didn't hear any of that."

"Your friend? Jonathan... You hate my guts - " Then I stopped. "Oh. I forgot. There's no reason for you to hate me now. Because I didn't divorce Katie."

Ford took a step away from me, looking genuinely worried. He reached for the PAL on his belt and spoke quickly. "Med-bay? This is Commander Ford. Can you send someone up to A-deck right away?"

"What did you do that for? I'm fine."

"Except that you're talking like a lunatic."

"Just forget I said anything. I have to get to work now."

"Oh, no you don't." He stopped me in my tracks. "You're not doing anything until I'm satisfied that you're fit for duty. I can't afford to have one of my officers performing below standard, especially when we're at war."

"War?" I managed to get out, before my surroundings started spinning... Or was that me?

OOOOO

"So let me get this straight." Said the doctor. I wished I could remember his name. He was the slim and balding one. "You think you're from another universe."

"Not exactly." I said, from the bed. Since I'd come round, I'd made the mistake of trying to explain what I'd said, and only succeeded in making things worse. The hole was getting deeper and deeper. "I'm from the _real_ universe. _This_ is the _other_ universe."

Doctor 'Baldy' exchanged a glance with Ford. They were both clearly disturbed. It was very disconcerting state of affairs for me too. All of it. Ford's friendship. The ring on my finger, that I couldn't stop looking at, or playing with. The fact that we were at war with all the other confederations...

"And in your universe, there's something called the U-E-?" Continued the doctor. I was starting to feel eight again.

"The UEO."

"And what exactly is the UEO?"

"United Earth Oceans. It's a peace-keeping organisation set up to replace the UN. They started it because of the situation in the Livingstone trench. To prevent there being a war over undersea territory."

"The situation in the Livingstone trench?" Said Ford. "You mean the situation that _started_ this war?"

"No, no, no. That's all wrong, because you stopped Stark firing."

"No I didn't." Said Ford.

"Yes you did. You got a medal for it."

"No I _didn't. _Stark's actions were upheld by the DOD. Look, Ben, this is all very creative, but I think it's time you owned up to whatever drugs you've been taking."

"His blood is clean." Interrupted the doctor, handing over my test results. Ford perused them incredulously, while the doctor continued, "He hasn't got a concussion and his vitals haven't altered the whole time he's been talking. By all accounts I think that means he believes he's telling the truth."

At last, someone was on my side.

"So it's not a physical problem?" Ford asked.

"I think it's a psychological one." Baldy confirmed.

"Well, he does have a history of mental health problems." Said Ford.

"I do not." I said, exasperated.

"It says here, that you had couselling as a child." Said the doctor.

I looked at them both. "I'm not crazy!" my blood pressure on the monitor started to rise.

"No-ones saying you're crazy." The doctor reassured. "Maybe the stress is starting to get to you. Maybe you've been reading too many science fiction novels, I don't know. I need to run some more tests."

"Maybe his wife can talk some sense into him." Ford said to the doctor.

"Yesss!" I said. "That's what I need. Let me talk to Katie. Where is she?"

Ford and the doctor looked at each other again.

"She's where she always is." Ford said slowly, really starting to worry. It was clear what he was thinking; that getting confused over how we came to be at war was one thing, but forgetting where my wife was, was another thing entirely.

"Which is...?" I said hopefully, raising my eyebrows.

"On the _Athena, _conducting research in special warfare operations._"_

"Right. I knew that."

I didn't.

"We'll give you some privacy." Ford said tossing me the romote control and exiting with the doctor.

When she came on the med-bay comms screen, she'd obviously been expecting the call because she looked up suddenly, smiled sincerely and said, "Hi."

I opened my mouth, but the words caught in my throat and I was as mute as when I'd encountered Stark earlier, but for different reasons. It had been years since Katie and I had been together, and I'd forgotten how to relate to her as my wife. How did we used to talk to each other?

Always impatient, she filled in the silence. "Jonathan called me while you were out cold. I'm worried about you, Ben. He said you started talking nonsense and then passed out."

Her beautiful face was filled with compassion, and I started to feel glad that I'd made this decision. So what if everyone thought I was out of my mind. Katie cared about me; she was being nice to me...

"I'm Okay. Honest. It's just the pressure starting to get to me, after a rest I'll be fine."

She looked relieved; she believed me.

"You work so hard, and I'm proud of you, but you really need to take better care of your-self."

"I will. Scout's honour." I gave her a mock salute.

She looked down, hesitating before she said what she wanted to say. She'd never expressed herself easily. It was then that I managed to get a proper look at her. I'd obviously interrupted some kind of heavy work because she was wearing one of her awful grey tanks, with her cover-alls tied around her waist, and a smudge of oil on her cheek.

"You gave me quite a scare." She said, finally admitting how she felt.

"I know." I almost laughed. I was thinking of a different scare to the one she was thinking of.

"Don't worry, I'll get over it." She reassured me.

"I missed you." I said, meaning it, and shuddering at the memory of the weak and broken version of her. This version, the cool capable version, was a sight for sore eyes. "Is your CO gonna be mad at me for taking you away from your experiments?"

"Ben," she said, giving me the same look that Ford had given me when I asked where she was, "I _am_ the CO. Are you sure you haven't had a blow to the head?"

Of course she was. How could I be so stupid? There was no limit to what she could achieve if she only had the support she needed - the support that I'd apparently given her in this universe - the support that I'd taken away when I'd divorced her in our other universe. "I was joking. You know I always use humour when I'm tense."

"I think the pressure is getting to me too. When this is all over," she continued conspiratorially, "I want to settle down. I've had enough. The things I've done... Seen... All through my career I've tried to convince my self that it's been about the science, that it's been about defending the values we hold dear, that in the military a woman can use her nurturing and creative instincts to build something. But at the end of the day, I can't deny, that all we've been training to do is kill people and blow things up. What I'm doing right now is directly contributing to thousands of people's deaths. I don't think my conscience can take any more."

She kept a straight face through all of this, but it was clear she'd become disillusioned with the job she once lived for. This was a bitter-sweet reunion we were having. Sure, we were still married, but it meant we couldn't be together. Who knew how long this war would last. I felt crushed. No matter what I did, _someone_ ended up unhappy. My plan was back-firing yet again.

"I promise you, when this war is over, I'll take you away from it all. We just have to hold on, survive. We'll buy that farm we always talked about, have ten kids..."

"I can't see an end to this insanity. There'll never be any respite. Don't you remember? We came out of one conflict and straight into another. There's no way the world will ever be safe again. Whats the point of having kids if you can't keep them safe?"

"No," I said, sensing her desperation, "you see, that's where you're wrong. There _can_ be peace; I've seen it. I've been somewhere, where scientists and the military work together for everyone's benefit. Where all the countries of the world are safe from war, because organisations like the UEO patrol the international waters. Where people like you and me fight injustice, not our fellow human beings..."

Katie's face changed from desperation to pity. Pity for me.

"Ben, sweetheart, you always painted such a pretty picture. But it's all in your mind. I'm afraid for you. Jonathan is right... I think you've finally lost it."

"What did he say about me?"

"That you didn't even know where you were." She looked down again. "He said, yesterday you were fine, and then you woke up this morning and you'd changed. He told me you thought we were getting a divorce."

"That's not what I said!" I almost leaped off the bed, but for the monitors still attached to me.

"He said, you thought you were from another planet." She said, more and more saddened.

"I didn't say that either! I said I was from an alternative universe."

"See," she said, defeated, "you're just proving their suspicions - right now. Ben, this fantasy has to stop, or you are going to get yourself in trouble."

There was a unidentified voice from somewhere behind her, an urgent '_Commander'_, and I knew that meant she had to get back to work. She looked briefly over her shoulder and then turned back to me.

"Times up." She kissed her hand and pressed it up against the screen. "I'll call you when I get back and we'll talk about this some more."

"Elephant-juice." I blurted out, memories of our past conversations flooding back. I never could say '_I love you'_ to anyone. Don't go, I willed her. It wasn't enough, I wanted more of her, _needed_ more.

"Elephant-juice, yourself." She said, and then she was gone.

I barely had time to get over the disaster I'd just made of the situation, when Doctor Baldy came back in, looking more concerned than ever. With him were a couple of the other medical personnel, one of them carrying a surgical tray.

On the tray was a hypo-spray.

"What are you doing?" I asked the doctor as he rolled up my sleeve in preparation for something I probably wasn't going to like. I pulled away from his grasp.

"Relax, it's just a sedative."

"I don't _need_ a sedative." I said, the readout going nineteen to the dozen, as my blood-pressure went through the roof. The two orderlies held me down. I would have fought them off, there was no way I'd ever let someone medicate me without my consent, but I felt so very weak...

"We monitored your conversation with your wife, Lieutenant." Said the doctor, and his image swam before me as I started to black out again. "This won't hurt a bit."

Okay, maybe the doctor wasn't on my side after all.

"Clarence! CLARENCE!" I yelled with the last of my strength, the hypo coming towards me, "this isn't... going... how... I planned..."

OOOOO

I opened my eyes. It was dark, pitch dark. Thank-you God, I thought, it was all just a horrible nightmare.

But something felt wrong; the sub was never totally dark. The surface I was lying on felt wrong too. It wasn't my bunk; it was something cold and hard and slightly bumpy.

I turned, the light gradually increasing, and by the time I had fully stood up, I could see that I had been lying on a fresh grave. I was in the graveyard again. I cursed Clarence under my breath as I brushed the earth from my clothes in revulsion.

Clarence appeared by my side, sitting on the head stone, the dawn sunlight reflecting off his fluffy white hair.

"You dirty-rotten, good-for-nothing, low-down, son-of-a..."

"Ah-hem." Clarence coughed into his fist, and pointed up. "He's listening."

"Arghhhhh...!" I yelled at the angel, throwing up my hands. I wanted to wipe that self-satisfied smirk right off his face, but instead I jabbed my pointed finger at his chest, preparing to give him a piece of my mind. "You _tricked_ me. You let me think I was home and dry and then you left me to be hummiliated. You're just torturing me like some lab-rat. She was there... And she loved me again, and you took that away from me. There wasn't enough time... We never had enough time..."

My own words pierced like a dagger, and I crouched to the floor, knocked down by the emotions I'd tried to stifle and kill, just to stay sane. So that's what this pain was, that I'd carried so long; I still loved her.

"We never had enough time." I said, staring into space, calmer now. Looking up at Clarence, I found his face contorted by remorse. It couldn't be easy, being an angel and watching us human beings tie ourselves up in knots, but they were the fortunate ones, never loving or losing.

He took a deep breath and moved his black robes aside to reveal the name on the grave. Up until that point, I'd thought it was my own.

_Katherine Hitchcock-Krieg b.1990 d.2019._

"No!" I flung myself onto the stone, brushing off the film of fresh dirt, cherishing the only thing that was left of her. "What happened?"

"War. The _Athena _was lost with all hands before they reached port again. That conversation was the last time you saw her alive."

I couldn't speak, I just traced the outline of her name on the hard, cold marble surface.

"I'm sorry, Ben, you're a widower."

"I want this to stop. _Right_ now." I could barely contain my anger.

"Don't you point your finger at me. You're the one that killed her."

"What?"

"It was your selfishness that killed her. You _knew_ that if you were married there was no way you'd be able to serve together. She died because you weren't there by her side, looking out for her."

"No, no, no, no, no." I put my hands over my ears blocking out the horror.

I felt his warm, comforting hand on my shoulder and when I uncovered my ears he said, "do you understand now? You can't change the past."

"Is this like in _'The Time Machine', _when the guy keeps going back in time, but nothing he does can prevent the girl from dying?" I ask through my tears.

"Yes. It's exactly like that."

"Then why didn't you tell me in the first place? I needn't have gone through all this pain."

"I can't just tell you, you have to find out for yourself."

"So if you make it so that I was never born, everyone's screwed?" I said, looking at all the graves.

"Yes."

"But if I go back to the real world, and save Ford's life, I'm the one who's screwed?"

"Yes."

"And if I try to change the past, Katie will always die?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, but you're going to have to make some sacrifices. Starting with the woman you love."

I fell silent for a while. I had to think this through. When I agreed to go through this thing and find out what the future could hold for me, I wasn't prepared for _this._

"I have to go back. But I can't stand the thought that in our reality she hates me."

"She doesn't hate you."

"But I thought... She said - "

"Yes I know what she said. But you humans are complicated creatures. Women often don't say what they mean. Can't you see that she's angry because you and your opinions matter to her?"

"I matter to her? I _matter_ to her. I'm an idiot aren't I?"

Clarence smiled. "You'd be surprised how long it takes some of my 'lab-rats' to figure that out. Even H. G. Wells took longer than you. but that's beside the point. Yes, you are an idiot. To you the biological clock thing was a throw-away comment, but to her... It's all she thinks about. She's trying to balance her life and her career. She's scared she'll never have a home and a family. Women put a lot of pressure on themselves to be perfect."

"And I went and put my foot in it."

"Haven't you noticed that you're the only one she ever opens up to? She needs you, Ben. And you could say, in her own way, she loves you too."

"So if I love her and she loves me, why does she have to die when we're together?"

"Because she was never supposed to be _yours_." Clarence raised his voice.

The truth hits home like a sledge-hammer. "Oh." I said, winded. So that's why it's always been such a struggle. That's why we always fought so much. "Will she ever be happy?" I asked.

"She meets the right guy and she retires from the navy as a captain, settles down, and they eventually adopt two children."

This news didn't affect me as much as it did back when I thought she had kids with Gareth. In fact, I just felt pleased for her. Maybe that's what love is, afterall; being happy for someone even if it means you don't get your own way. Even if it means you lose. "Do we stay friends?"

"Of course you do."

"Is he good to her?"

"He's sensible, tolerant and patient, and he understands her."

"All the things I'm not."

"Don't take it personally."

"So what do I have to do to fix all of this?" I said with renewed hope and enthusiasm.

"She's haunted by guilt, because she thinks it all went wrong because of something _she_ did; because she's such hard work; because you wanted to settle down, and she wanted her career. She thought she couldn't be loved _and_ be the person she dreamed of being."

"She never _said_... Anything."

"When you get back, you're going to have to tell her you were never in love with her. It's the lie that will set her free. It'll hurt though..." He warned.

"I can do it. If it means she'll be happy."

"That's my boy."

"What about Ford?"

"What _about_ Ford?"

"How will I know when it's, you know... Time."

"You'll just know. In the mean time, try not to give him a reason to kick you off the boat."

"I'll try. You know, it was actually kinda nice, having him talk to me like an equal back there. I could handle he and I being friends." I grinned at the thought.

"Are you ready to go back?"

"I suppose so." I hesitated.

"You don't sound so sure."

"It's just, with all this travelling between different realities, I would have liked to see my parents one last time."

Clarence screwed up his face, thinking about all the disasters I'd caused by wishing things were different. "Ugh... You're _killing_ me... Haven't you learned anything from this?"

"Don't worry, I've learned my lesson. I'm not going to try to change anything, I just want to see them alive."

Clarence looks at me for the longest time. The sun is fully up now, and the graveyard doesn't seem as threatening. In fact, when I take a glance at the head stones, they have the same names on them, but now they tell of people living to ripe old ages. I feel a huge sense of satisfaction.

"Okay." Said Clarence. "Hold on."

He grasped my hand and we fell into darkness for the last time.

OOOOO

It was a lot smaller than I remembered it, but then everything is when you revisit your childhood. Our house. A million miles away from the way my future ex-wife grew up, and although we didn't have much back then either, I felt loved. Sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, like those biblical skies you saw in old pictures. Dust-motes flickered and floated in the amber beams as someone passed by, briefly cutting out the light. My breath caught in my throat; it was my mother.

"Isn't she wonderful?" I said to Clarence, not taking my eyes off her for a second. She flitted about easily, putting things away and generally tidying up. It occured to me that people were always in their kitchens. Life was lived in kitchens. She had her hair cut real short back then, and I wondered why I never stopped to think how beautiful she was. Why didn't I appreciate her while I had the chance? Why didn't I get to know them both better? Before... Before...

Clarence interrupted my introspection, nudging me to take notice of the next player that came into the theatre. Enter, stage left, nine year old Ben.

It's really weird watching yourself, I don't need to tell you that, but it's also very liberating at the same time. For the first time I realised that I'd been tall and confident for my age, as well as extremely hyperactive. The young me skipped across the room with complete abandon and started pretending to kick and punch Mom in some kind of martial-arts attack. I recognised the moves.

"Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles." I explained to Clarence, who coughed. "What? It was nineteen ninety three, what do you expect?"

"Not now, Ben. Can't you see I'm busy?" Said my Mom. It was happening exactly how I'd remembered it.

"It's Saturday. You _promised_ we'd go to the _planetarium_." Ben reminded her in a sing-song voice, then added, "I'm gonna beat you up until you surrender."

"When I'm done with the house."

"But the house is _fine_." Ben whined.

"I realise your version of 'fine' involves toys scattered everywhere, dinner-plates hidden under your bed and a thick layer of dust on everything, but my standards are a little higher, sweetheart."

"Can I have some cookies, then?"

"You already had cookies."

"I had _one_ cookie. Technically that's not _'cookies'"_

"Boy, you'd make a good lawyer." She said under her breath, but then she told him, "you only get _one_. We don't have much money."

Then he/me darted off back into the living area shouting, "Daaaaaaaad! Mom's being unfair again."

"Tell me about it." Came a world weary voice; my Dad. My heart gave out a little more and Clarence looked on with empathy as we followed the young me.

"Whoa..." I breathed, "I didn't realise it would feel like this."

Young Ben ran to his father. What struck me the most was the way he was so unashamed and had no reason to believe anything other than that he would be accepted. My Dad was an enormously wise and accepting man. He looked exactly the same as he did in my favourite photo, about the same age I am now. I desperately wanted to run to him and hug him and tell him I was sorry for being a little shit for the entire nine years that he knew me. I wanted to tell him that I was a man now, and that I'd made it, and tell him all the things that he'd missed, and that he'd done a good job. But it was impossible, I knew that; the butterfly-effect was too strong.

"All the other kids in school make fun of me 'cause we don't have a car." Said Ben, laying his head melodramatically on Dad's cluttered desk. In a child's logic, this was supposed to make my parents feel sorry enough for me to make up for the cookies and for not going to the planetarium.

My Dad put down the newspaper he'd been scanning, and looked at the kid very seriously. He didn't speak straight away, he always used to think very carefully before he said anything. He took Ben very gently by the shoulders, making sure he had his full attention. I knew he did that because I had a very short attention span. "We had to sell the car."

"We had to sell mostly everything." Ben informed him. "Is it because of me?"

"Why on earth would you think it was because of you?"

"Because I heard you talking to Mom, and you said that we wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for her hormones."

"Oh my God." He quickly interjected, realising what he'd done. "That's not what I meant. I was joking. But I guess that's not how you see it. You shouldn't have heard that." Then he tried to explain. "Do you know what a recession is?"

"Um?"

"It's an economic down-turn." He said, picking up the paper again and shaking it for emphasis. "It means this country isn't making enough money, and if it goes on for long enough, people lose their jobs."

"Like you?"

"Like me."

"You can always get another one. Jamie-down-the-street lost his dog and they got him a new one."

"Not quite the same thing, Ben."

"There's other ways to make money. You could print some and then you can get our car back."

My Dad actually laughed at this. "Or we could sell _you_."

Young Ben's eyes were wide with mock fear. "_Huh_?"

"Yeah, I think I could get at least a grand. Or we could turn you upside down and see what comes out."

And with that, he grabbed the rapidly escaping but delighted child, and wrestled him into an upturned position. He then shook him until he shouted "Stop! Stop!" through his paroxisms. I laughed along, despite myself. I used to love that.

My Mom came in to see what all the fuss was about just as he was lowering Ben back to the floor. "What on earth?" She managed to get out before Dad grabbed her and said, "What shall we do with her, hey? Shall we see if there's anything in her pockets?"

"Don't you dare!" My Mom wriggled out of his grasp, knowing that he would not hesitate to tip her upside down too. He was always doing things like that; making her dance a waltz around the room to imaginary music, things that made most people cringe.

The chaos over, my Dad settled himself back in his chair and beckoned to Mom to come sit on his lap, which she did. They looked great together. It was overwhelming to see them both, here, _alive_.

"They don't know what's going to happen, do they?" I asked Clarence.

"No-one ever does." He replied.

Young Ben climbed onto Mom's lap, making a kind of precarious human sandwich. "No matter what happens, we're rich because we'll always have each other." Said my Dad.

"No you won't." I said.

"And if we keep laughing..." He continued.

"... then we'll always be moving forward." Completed my Mom, and she hugged Ben tight.

I tried in vain to swallow the lump in my throat. Clarence placed a hand on my shoulder again, in solidarity. All these things had seemed mundane at the time, but now I knew just how valuable each moment was.

"I can't watch any more." I told Clarence, and I walked away, back to the kitchen.

The sunset still streaming in made me feel just a little better. I wished I could touch, just so that I could break something. It was so unfair. I toyed with the idea of intervening again, but it just wasn't going to work, going down that avenue. Part of me wanted to stay; I would be happy living vicariously forever. But I had a life back home, even though I'd messed it up, I couldn't abandon it even if the powers-that-be would let me. My time here would soon be up, if I knew Clarence at all.

After a few minutes of pacing and thinking this through, nine year old Ben came back into the kitchen, and it was curious; I knew exactly what he was thinking and planning to do.

My eyes darted to the top shelf of the dresser where sat the infamous china Humpty-dumpty cookie jar. Humpty-dumpty was an heirloom, my mother had indoctrinated that into me. And Humpty-dumpty was about to have a great fall.

Ben took one of the dining chairs and positioned it carefully in front of the dresser, and humpty grinned back at his gleeful face. He expertly took off the lid and emptied every last cookie into his kangaroo pocket. Then he put it back exactly where it had been and got down, replacing the chair and sneaking off out of the other door.

Then two things happened quite differently to how I'd remembered them. Firstly, from my vantage point on this side of the room, I had a better view of the opposite door. My Mom was there, watching the whole thing. She knew exactly what I'd done all along, and she'd never said a word. I knew then, just how strong a mother's love was. She'd never treated me any differently because I'd deceived her. Secondly, the cookie jar stayed exactly where it was for a long time, while my Mom watched it, thinking about the kind of person her son was. That was strange; I thought it had broken. I must have remembered it wrong. Then without any warning, the jar tipped off the shelf all by it's-self.

I stared open-mouthed. My Mom moved forwards and began to clean it up. My Dad shouted from the other room and got a, "everything's fine," back. Clarence chuckled to himself.

"I knew it!" I said. "_Invisible_-Ben did it."

"Some people will never learn." Said Clarence.

I turned to him, unable to express my gratitude for the gift that he'd given me. I no longer felt the guilt that had plagued me for so long. It wasn't just the cookie-jar incident; it was thinking that all their problems were because of me... But that was stupid. Every couple has their problems, I knew that now, didn't I? And a child can hardly blame themselves for economic hardship. Things make a lot more sense when you have an adult perspective on them. I tried to open my mouth to say something, but the pulling began again and I knew that before long I'd be back in my proper place. I did manage to catch one last glimpse of my Mom though.

The experience had gone a long way to explaining a few things, but I'm not sure I'll ever know why I am the way I am. I'll never know, for instance, why I can't stop myself making wisecracks at other people's expense, why I'm such a food snob, or why I consider myself to be exempt from the normal operating rules of moral society. Or why I live my life stuck in an idealistic fantasy from the past. I don't even even know why I give my subordinates such a hard time.

For some reason, being around Clarence made me pay more attention to my conscience, and it made me realise there are consequences to my actions. Yeah, I know, this is stuff that you're supposed to learn when you're a kid, but something went wrong there, didn't it? I felt like the world owed me something for taking my parents away so I cut myself some slack from caring, maybe a little too much slack, and there were casualties. Now I had the opportunity to heal _one_ of those cuts, at least, and probably the deepest. I'm still not sure if what happened was dream or a reality, but one thing is certain, I can't continue my life believing my actions don't have an impact on others lives.

"Thank-you." I turn around after we re-materialise in the real universe, but Clarence isn't there. Of course he's not there. Why would he be? I'm on my own now. Still, I'll miss the guy. He was starting to grow on me.

So I can't change the past, but now I'm armed with the knowledge I need to change my destiny, I know what I have to do.

I'm standing in the middle of my quarters, back in my uniform, looking down at my desk with the family services paperwork exactly where I left it. My nose has stopped hurting, which is good. And when I look at my watch, only a minute has passed since I first closed my eyes and entered hell on earth. My first impulse is to run after Lucas to tell him I'm sorry for snapping, but the image of Katie's grave is still fresh in my mind. I have to do this now. When I close the hatch softly behind me, the first thing I see is Bridger coming towards me. Even though he hides his emotions well, I can still see he's still tense and annoyed from the stand-off with Zack Thomas.

"Sir." I acknowledge.

"Lieutenant." He attempted to continue on his way.

"Uh, Captain?"

"What is it?"

"Where is Commander Ford?"

"He's still over there."

I know it's probably completely innapropriate, but I can't help giving him a wide, genuine smile.

"What are you so happy about?" He asks, knowing about my rivalry with Ford, and completely getting the wrong end of the stick. I'm not glad that Ford is being held hostage by a sixteen year old; I'm just smiling because I know for sure that he's going to make it out of this to fight another day. There's no way I can explain this to the Captain though.

"Nothing," I say, "absolutely nothing. Just glad to be alive, that's all."

He's perplexed. I don't envy him; he has a hard time dealing with me and the aftermath of my unconventional behaviour. It's only been a couple of hours since we talked about Katie and her using his men as verbal punch bags, and here I am acting like all is right with the world. I feel like I should be in a musical and just about to launch into _'Zipidy-do-dah'. _That would really be a bad idea. I'm getting much better at this thinking-before-you-speak thing. Instead I ask the inevitable question...

"Where's Commander Hitchcock?"

Bridger looks at me like I've got two heads. "Where she always is..."

Uh-oh, I've been here before.

"... in the gym, of course."

I breathe a sigh of relief, and bound off without another word, but I can hear Bridger behind me, muttering, "... five kids come aboard and suddenly everyone's acting totally ca-ca."

It's such a relief to be back.

When I poke my head in the door way, she's still punishing herself with some chin-ups. She's glowing, her hair is still a mess and she's drenched with sweat, but I don't think I've ever seen a more wonderful sight.

"Hi." I say, but she ignores me. "Katie, about before - "

"I don't have time for this, Ben. I'm on duty in twenty minutes. You know, tick-tock, tick-tock."

Okay, I deserved that. But I have to persevere - try to explain. She needs to know it's hard for me to see her every day, and treat her like she was just one of my colleagues, and not someone I knew intimately. "Sometimes I slip into old habits when I see you, you know."

That caught her attention. "Since when is insensitivity an old habit? We're not married anymore. Leave me alone."

She's right; there's no reason for me to talk to her at all. I was wrong to think she'd listen to what I had to say. She was still angry; maybe I'd let her cool off for a few days. I would just let her know I wasn't proud of what I'd done and leave her to it.

"The tick-tock thing was supposed to be a joke. I came down here to apologise. I'm sorry." I try to make my exit.

"Ben," she calls me back unexpectedly, perhaps touched by my apology, "that little girl, she's so trusting, so hungry for love. Even from me and I'm just a stranger. She made me feel what it's like to want a baby. It's wonderful, scary. Then you... You come along with your biological clock thing, and it's like twisting the knife."

"I can explain that, I'm an idiot. And I never see the line until I've crossed it. But I didn't mean to be cruel. Look, uh, we never should have married. I mean, I wasn't in love with you. I was in love with the idea, the idea of _us_. Top of our class, fast-track careers, the best and the brightest. Heck, I was marrying myself."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Oh, sure it is. An insensitive thoughtless one, but a compliment. Look, I used to fantasise about having my own ship, but you, you're _command_ material."

I know, because I've seen it. And I see it every day. Then I realise that I actually enjoy working with her. To think I almost threw away that opportunity.

"My fantasies never included children. But now, I'm never gonna get a command with a baby on my hip." She says, being more honest than I deserve. Clarence was right; I'd always taken it for granted, but now I knew that the confidence she gave me, letting me into her emotional life, was a precious thing.

"You'll get whatever you want because you deserve it. One day you'll even find the right guy. Of course, he won't be as good-looking as me."

That last part might have been going too far because she throws her sweaty towel at my face. Man, why are people always throwing their dirty laundry at me? But as she leaves for her shift, I'm confident that things are gonna be Okay between us. The pain is gone, and it's kinda uplifting knowing that I've given her what she needs. It's amazing the effect that getting everything out into the open can it's a lie, but that is something I know I can keep locked up in my heart... For her sake.

OOOOO

It wasn't until much later, when Commander Ford and Zack Thomas were safely aboard, and the other kids were exhausted and tucked up in their bunks, that I finally manage to find someone within the child services administration that has the expertise to deal with these orphans of extraordinary circumstances. So far, every department either couldn't help or could help and passed the buck because it was such a dificult case. They weren't immigrants, they weren't special needs, they hadn't been to school for three years, in fact they didn't fit into any category the government saw fit to label people with. It's so important to get this part right. They needed to stay together and wrong foster parents can make life very difficult for someone who's already very insecure. How do I know? First hand experience.

There was a hollow knock on the hatch. I didn't answer it straight away; I got a lot of traffic through here, It was my job to be on hand whenever someone needed their practical needs filled or just advice, so it wasn't unusual at this time of day. I was surprised however, when I opened it and saw who was standing there.

It was Katie. She didn't beat around the bush.

"Can I come in?" She said, but I couldn't tell from her face why she was here.

"Sure." I lead the way back to my desk. She sits on the other chair, the one Clarence had swung on earlier - God, I _hate_ that - and tucked her legs up under her.

Neither of us says anything, as I shuffle some of the papers and shut down the computer screen. She watches me. Soon there's nothing more that I can distract myself with and I have to look up and into her eyes.

She's smiling softly, knowingly. I wonder what the joke is.

"What?" I say.

"I feel like we're not done with this yet." She says.

Oh, God. I was hoping for a break from all this emotional trauma.

"Yeah?"

"I wanted to thank you for being honest with me. It couldn't have been easy."

"Any time." I shrug it off. "I just wanted you to know that I was sorry for the way I behaved today, and that I'm sorry for the way I behaved back then - you know... When..."

I can't find the right words, but it doesn't matter. You don't always need words. She's satisfied now that she knows we're cool, and she fiddles with the ammo shells that I've left on her side of the desk, lining them up and knocking them down again idly.

"Crocker is never going to forgive you for that one, you know."

"I wonder if I could possibly make this day complete by upsetting some more people. How are they doing anyway, the boys?"

"They'll survive. Somehow kids always do."

She gets up, goes over to the bunk and handles the photo of my folks. I know what she's thinking; how the children had just been told their parents were never coming back.

"How come you never talk about them?" She asks.

I put down my pen, giving in from a lifetime of silence on the matter. I had my answer now, and I felt much better about sharing. "Have you ever blamed yourself for something that wasn't your fault?" My voice is loaded with meaning. I hope she figures out that I'm trying to let her forgive herself.

She smiles, and I drink in the sight of her, knowing that she's going to belong to another man one day. I'm Okay with it though.

"I have better ones." I say, gesturing towards the photo. Then I cross over to my filing cabinet, unlock it and pull out the folder. It's nice; just hanging out like this.

We pore over the pictures, sitting close, for at least a half an hour and I tell her the story of how I broke the cookie jar. Then I come across the one of her in the blue dress.

"Ah, so that's what it was. It was the Submarine Birthday Ball."

"I remember." She said warmly, then the details came back to her; "I _remember_..."

"Yeah, well." I'm embarrassed and she looks at me. "I didn't plan it, you know, that night."

"Yeah, I know, it _'just happened." _She laughs because she knows that's my stock-in-trade explanation for everything. "Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we'd done things differently?"

"Katie, _never_ wish things happened differently." I know what I'm talking about.

"Was it a complete waste of time?"

She's saying this because it looks like we've come full circle.

"No, it wasn't." I tell her. "Because we both know how _not_ to do it now."

"Ben," she says with obvious puzzlement, " I do believe you've actually grown up. When did _that_ happen?"

"Would you say I was crazy if I said...? Nevermind."

"No, go on." She told me sternly. When she looks at you like that, you'd better go ahead and do what she says.

"I think I was touched by an angel." I say it quickly, just in case she mocks me.

But she doesn't, she regards me, utterly serious, checking out my eyes. I could never get a lie past her. She says, "I believe you."

Of course she does. She was the only one that believed me about the sea monster.

"It's really good to see you." I blurt out.

"I haven't _been_ anywhere."

"No, but _I_ have."

She doesn't say anything to that, just glances at her watch. I sense that she needs to leave.

"You can have that one if you want." I give her the blue-dress picture. "I have copies." I add, to stop her protesting.

She agrees and secrets it away in her pocket. "You really think I have what it takes?"

"I _know_ you do. You are going to take that talent of yours and you are going to lead people and you are going to build something. It's not all killing people and blowing things up, you know."

"Thanks. Now I have to go prepare some torpedoes. I have a munitions depot to demolish first thing in the morning."

We both knew the irony of _that_. As she says it I move my arm, and the shells for the game fall on the floor, clanging like symbals.

"You know, everytime a bell rings - " She starts, but I hold up my hand. I can almost hear Clarence laughing.

"Don't. Just don't."

OOOOO

The End.

...Or is it?


End file.
